Cosa Nostra
by dewittmaria
Summary: Honestly, for any sane person, Chicago was complete shit at the time. The Chicago outfit was bigger than anywhere else. The city was overflown with crime: from petty thieves to big mob families. Chicago wasn't the place to raise your kids in. Mafia AU. WARNING: SWEARING, USE OF DRUGS, MENTIONS OF SEX, VIOLENCE etc.
1. Prologue

**Mafia AU. WARNING: SWEARING, USE OF DRUGS, MENTIONS OF SEX, VIOLENCE.**

* * *

 **Prologue**

My family is pretty solid. I have no rats, never had any. Rumors go around that I trust people too much, which is wrong, my gut feeling is never wrong and my _position_ in this world today can play as my advocate. For example, take Nami: people tend to mistake her for my _goomah_ all the time. I knew from the beginning that she wasn't a lady to mess with. Ask her if she fucks with any of the family and she will cut your balls off and send them to your wife. Zoro gets mistaken a lot too. Rumors went around about that guy even before I stepped into the picture. My people detecting abilities saved his ass from getting raped in prison. In return, he saved my ass more times than the number of fingers lost in this garbage business. He is my consigliere, right-hand man, and best friend. The family changed over the years. Back in the days, we were just some stupid kids not able to do much, now we're stupid adults able to blow your fucking brains out. Back in the days, we could think about _Spaghetti alle vongole_ without vomiting. Back in the days, we still stupidly believed that we were a lot different from the _pigs_. – as Dadan liked to call them. You know, stuff like that. But a lot stayed the same with this thing of ours. Nami still likes money, Sanji likes the ladies, Zoro gets lost on his way to the fucking toilet, Brook is a god damn pervert with a pretty great voice and I still wear the signature hat that is probably as infamous as I am. The thing made people remember me as _straw hat Luffy after_ all.

 **Chicago, 1950's.**

 **Next: chapter 1 – this thing of ours.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Mafia AU. Warning: swearing, use of weapons, mentions of sex and drugs.**

Disclaimer: I do not own one piece.

* * *

 **Chapter 1 – this thing of ours.**

I remember leaving my hometown on my seventeenth birthday. I took the little stuff I owned at the time, walked for 3 hours to get to the only nearby train station and left to start a life in the windy city: Chicago. Honestly, for any sane person, Chicago was complete shit at the time. The Chicago outfit was bigger than anywhere else. The city was overflown with crime: from petty thieves to big mob families. Chicago wasn't the place to raise your kids in. But I wasn't planning on raising kids and even though I wasn't the brightest in town I was no fool. I knew what had to be done in order to achieve my goals and had trained my whole life for the moment that I could finally follow the footsteps of my brother who had left years before me. Not that he was even the slightest inspiration for the goal I wished to achieve. The inspiration lies in the hat I wore to this day and on. A straw hat, slightly big in proportion to my head. But that didn't matter to me: it was and is my treasure.

People immediately assume that you're from the land when you wear something like that. Even people from the land stared at me in the train when it think about it. But the reason for that didn't necessarily lie only in my choice of hat wear. A kid alone in the train with clothes too big for his body and a large trunk meat sticking out from between the gaps where the trunk closed. I can imagine how I looked in their eyes.

A lady strutting through the train, she told me her family name was Orozco, but never more than that, presented the cabin I was in with her small but not inexpensive variety of alcohol and tobacco. Both were the only things that sold well in trains. Those days they were the only things that sold good anywhere – apart from drugs and women, but those are an illegal matter.

Mrs. Orozco usually divided her time between her part-time job and taking care of her three children while her man was working. But those days weren't golden days for the normal citizen and the money was scarce, so she took a second job. Which was selling her stuff on the train while simultaneously cleaning the cabins. She had started the job 2 months before this day and hadn't come across any major problems yet. She worked with a smile despite knowing that her husband wasn't overworking. She wasn't raised by a fool and knew perfectly fine that her husband was screwing his young mistress over in the city. But she had a household to maintain and no time to go after her scumbag husband. She wasn't that young and beautiful anymore like she used to be. This weren't the times to live without a husband.

Mrs. Orozco rather liked her new job. She enjoyed the change of habit and customer that her new job brought with it. She enjoyed the stories of oversea adventures that travelers told her, regardless of them being real or not. She knew things like that would never happen to her, but hearing stories like that made her able to dream again. She couldn't afford books anymore when her husband lost most of his money and got buried in debt. Books were the things that protected her from the harsh reality of her miserable lives and now she didn't even have that anymore. So in a change to escape reality, she grasped every single adventure she could hold on to.

Mrs. Orozco pushed her trolley towards me. "Interested in anything, sweetheart?" she moved her arm as if she was presenting him the crown jewels and hover above the goods. "you won't be able to get any cigs for a few hours."

I remember watching at the card in disappointed. I remember there not being any food on it.

"do you have any food in there?" I asked while eying the expensive cigar tins I wasn't going to buy anyway.

She smiled and grabbed a roll of mint situated behind the more expensive tins were I couldn't possibly have seen them without standing up. It was the least expensive brand she owned. I knew she assumed I had no money to spend. The oversized clothing and hat probably gave it away.

"spearmint _, sweetheart_ ," she said while holding the package up for me to see. _Wrigley's spearmint pepsin gum._

She threw the roll at me and winked. "for free. That is, if you tell me what a kid like you is planning to do in the big ol' windy city. " she assumed I did not have much of a choice and settled across of me.

"Okay, ma'am," I said while opening the package of mints. "If you let me finish this first. I can't concentrate on an empty stomach. You can understand that right?"

While I was eating the mints, Mrs. Orozco decided to tell me her life story because she knew nobody else would listen. She told me details about her kid's nobody cared about and whined about her sad excuse of a husband. She wasn't unpleasant to listen to, just painful. Her voice was soft and low it almost felt soothing to the ears to hear her talk.

A package of mint wasn't nearly enough to satisfy me and only made me more hungry. I had forgotten about the meat Dadan had prepared for me that was rotting away in my trunk.

Before I noticed Mrs. Orozco was done telling and was opening one of the less expensive tins with cigars on her trolley. "Do you mind?" she asked while lighting her cigar in a demeanor that told that she wasn't going to put it out even if I told her I did care. She took a big puff on her cigar and crossed her legs. She had told her husband that she stopped smoking. He wasn't here, so what did it matter anyways? "well sweetheart go on. Tell me your story. I am almost shaking out of excitement." She was exaggerating.

"I don't know how to start."

"your name," she said.

"what?"

She laughed. "not the sharpest in the town are you? Your name, you do have a name do you?"

I didn't understand how my name was relevant to her but there was no reason for me to not tell her my name. I mean, she did give me _free_ food. "It's Luffy," I said. "Luffy D. Monkey."

"what does the D. stand for?"

"Dunno."

And we let it with that. So I told her what I was planning to do in Chicago, not in full detail but I believe she was able to get a pretty clear view of my intentions.

Mrs. Orozco, who usually divided her time between her part-time job as a tobacconist and taking care of her children, aged eight, eleven and fifteen while her man was out of the house, learned that people are not what they seem to be.

She looked me in the eyes and laughed. Whether she laughed because she was surprised, scared or just found it funny is something I never found out.

"you plan to become the boss?" she whispered and she dropped her cigar. "fucking hell kid you almost gave me a heart attack. Don't go telling your dangerous ambitions to random strangers."

"don't flip your wig." I said angrily. "you are the one who asked me! I was just being honest."

Dadan told me to always be honest to adults but that didn't work out. I couldn't lie If I wanted to either way. Only with issues where life depends on it.

She threw me the tin where she got the cigar she was smoking from took her trolley and turned away. "Have a blast boy." She said while she walked away from my spot. "just don't go cutting too many fingers will ya?"

And like that she left.

* * *

I remember being irritated in more than one way in that train ride.

Number one: I was out of mints. It wasn't like they were that good but it was food, I had already remembered that stock Makino had prepared but the meat wasn't packaged very well and didn't look very edible. (not something that stopped me from eating it.)now he felt obligated to take something from the stock of food Makino had prepared for him. The stock of food he tried so hard not to lay a finger on, he had promised her not to touch it until he had arrived his destination.

Secondly: Some old lady had brought her dog into the train and it had pissed all over my new coat while the lady was sleeping. Fucking great!

At last: how long had I been in this train already? I was hungry and bored. And hungry.

It was pitch black outside. The only visible lights were the small spots coming from the buildings in the distance that illuminated like stars. It looked pretty. But that didn't really matter of the time. There were greater issues at the moment. Food for example.

A man sat down in the exact place where my coat was pissed on. The first time I had ever seen Smoker, that bastard, one of the only three cops I don't really mind that much. One of them is my own grandfather, (fucking bastard as well mind me.) so that says something. He's tall, has white hair and always wears long obnoxious coats. He has always been a fream with a fairly righteous sense of justice. Even in this fucked up government. He was smoking a cigar, something that he always did regardless the occasion. I wonder whether it will age our his lungs to take his life first. I know it won't be any man – or woman I'm not sexist. He is strong, that smoker.

His voice is low and rough. I don't know if his bad habits have turned him this way or if he was born like that. I should ask it sometime. "you don't mind me sitting here don't you? Everybody keeps on sending me away because they dislike the smell of my cigars. Fucking assholes."

Smoker smokes some strong shit, I know that for sure.

You see, Smoker has a tendency of calling people assholes. His problem is is that he is a big gaping asshole himself. He has no fucking manners. Not like I'm one to talk, but he is an extreme case.

For example, he blew smoke in my face because I didn't respond. That's something an asshole does.

Smoker grinned, "got your attention kid? My name is Smoker."

I laughed assuming that he was joking because honestly, that name is ridiculous. Again, I am not one to talk, my last name is Monkey, but that is a family thing. But I assumed it was a nickname, I still do. "is that your real name?" I ask curiously.

"does it matter?" Smoker stated while eying the tin case lying next to me. "what are you doing in the big city kid? How'd you afford those cigars?"

" _does it matter_?" I mimicked.

At that time, the train made a lot of noise, what meant that we had arrived at the destination.

I threw the tin case in Smoker lap and turned around one last time before leaving the train. "why are you asking so many questions?" I swung the case over my shoulder. " _are you writing a book or something?"_

* * *

There was no one to pick me up from the station.

I knew nobody in the city, but that didn't exactly include that nobody would know me.I learned that, to be precise, from the moment that I set foot on the grounds of Chicago station dozens of eyes was fixated on me. Dozens of people extremely well hidden who were waiting there for hours only to watch me arrive at my destination safely, and in some of their cases to make sure I would never be able to set a footstep out of the station.

Dadan gave me clear instructions on what I was to do when I arrived. I had already performed the first one without a problem. The first command, if it were to quote precisely like Dadan had said it, went like this: " _you put that goddamn hat of yours in that goddamn bag of yours and if you don't I swear I will find you and cut off your thumbs."_ However, I didn't know that she was said to do so by his grandfather if Luffy ever were to leave his place. For safety reasons, obviously.

The other commandments were as much complicated as the first one and all of them were very similar. _Do not enter dark alleys, Do not follow the women offering you a "good time", don't give people money when they ask for it,_ and so on. It was not like I didn't know these things. I wasn't a complete idiot, even if Dadan thought I was.

I couldn't wear my hat and was obligated to cover my eyes from light with my hands, what a pain. The streetlights in Chicago really sucked.

Chicago station, to be fair, didn't look like it was Chicago station. There was no trash on the grounds, no trash in the bins, no graffiti, no homeless people begging for some spare cash. Very tidy and very unusual because it didn't fit the image of the city itself at all.

However, the people entering and leaving the trains looked exactly like one would expect it. If you know what to expect.

How indescribable easy it was to spot the difference between civilian, criminal and cop; the big C's in which the city was divided. Citizens walked around with scared expressions, clutching tightly to their baggage as if they could get robbed any moment, which in fact was very true and they best kept on doing that. They looked around nervously, wishing that they could rush into their comfortable houses as quick as possible.

The criminals were picture book examples: they walked around with smug expressions in expensive clothes, their arms wrapped around the best escorts around and their weapons visible for any idiot to see. But these people weren't the dangerous guys. The people you really had to look out for weren't the small robbers and con-artists like them. The people you had to watch out for wouldn't walk around like that. The dangerous people were masters in hiding, they controlled the city from the shadows. These guys were in charge of the hookers the robbers played with and the stores they bought their clothes and weapons at.

And the people doing all they can to get those guys behind bars: the cops, the popos, the fuzz or how Dadan used to call them; the pigs. And mark these words: these guys weren't your regular District agent. Some of them could be just as bad as the criminals, only with a different sense of justice. Try to see it as the biggest gang in this world.

I wasn't really like any of these three C's. Someone one described me as the still fresh dish on which the world hadn't decided how to flavor it yet. In the eyes of the government, I wasn't a form of danger yet, I could still is kneaded in the way they wanted me to was their fault, to be honest. I was able to roam around getting my crew together without them interfering for a rather long time. If only they spend as much time on their research as being corrupt.

I had met more people than they could've imagined in my, then, only seventeen years of life. And they didn't know that the impact these people had on me were this big. They didn't know that from age seven I had already decided that he would become a Mafioso and that absolutely nothing would be able to change his mind. Because that was the sort of person I was.

But that didn't matter much to me. They would notice me soon enough, just like the rest of Chicago.

* * *

At that moment, I, Monkey d. Luffy, seventeen years of age, was getting robbed.

It happened as soon as I reached a dark alley. Oh silly me, if only I had listened to Dadan's hour long preach of why I should never enter dark alleyways. I had a tendency of filtering the things said to me so that only things I wished to hear would come through. Yes, I was and am childish like that. I was never a very good listener anyway.

I felt a knee hitting his stomach (not with very much force), followed by the feeling of cold metal in the nape of my neck. The metal could either be that of the blade of a knife or a pistol, I guessed the latter – I was right.

I was not scared, I knew how to deal with situations like this, it wasn't like stuff like this hadn't happened to me before. The robber, however, sounded more terrified than I should have been. His voice was high and soft, he even had a bit of a stutter. "h-hand over a-all of yo-our belongings."

The perpetrator took a grip of Mes hand. His hand was sweaty and shaky, he was nervous, obviously. I knew for sure that this was his first time doing this.

And like that, I decided that I would go easy on the poor fellow, for once.

I wrung myself loose from the extremely poor grip of the robber and took Coby's pistol in a swift motion. I studied the pistol carefully as I held my opponent down without using to much force.

Even though I prefer the fistfight I had always loved weapons. Especially big and showy wasn't very showy or special at all. It was a Russian model. Semi-automatic. I guessed he used a Makarov PM and asked myself whether he was from the Russian mob, because they were too big to deal with when hadn't got any crew yet.

The small _**m.p.m**_ carved in the back proved me right.

Needless of my love for firearms, My aim was pretty bad. I always believed I excelled more at fist to fist fights but am aware that I can't do much with only my fist in an era of firearms. I am a human after all a bullet can kill me, sadly.

But with guns, I was less of a stranger than the robber I was still holding down. The robber had held it the wrong way.

I took a good look at the perpetrator. Dirty round glasses with a lot of cracks in it and short hair in an unnatural shade of pink. The glasses were blurry because of his constant sobbing. "d-don't kill me please.." I really disliked Coby back then. He grew up nicely. He is one of the other cops I can stand. I see him as a friend.

I signed him to stop with crying and sighed, I would never forgive himself for beating this sad coward up, even if I really wanted to, I had my morals.

"why'd you attack me if you weren't ready to accept the consequences?" I asked.

The boy started crying again and I panicked, I couldn't deal with crying people.

"hey there, I won't kill you, call down."

"I needed.. money," he breathed between his annoying loud sobs, "I had to, Alvida will kill me."

I supposed he wouldn't do something like this on his own. I had met all kind of thugs in my life – hell I got raised by fucking bandits – and he wasn't one. I sighed knowing that I had to help him if I chose to ask him who this 'Alvida' person was. The thing is: I didn't actually plan to get in trouble the moment I arrived here. Yes, I should have listened to Dadan's advice and shouldn't have entered a dark alleyway, but it wasn't like I asked to get robbed. I was feeling pretty irritated and figured that confronting this 'Alvida' would surely end up in a fistfight, or more. And honestly, I was hoping for the latter.

"okay pinky, explain," I began, "who is this Alvida person, where is she hiding and how big is the gang." I hadn't had any gat on me and realized that defeating a big gang wasn't really a realistic outcome. I set 20 people as the max – if their capabilities were as low as Coby's were at the time.

"you can't fight her she is strong, and her men are as well!" Coby exclaimed. I always hated people underestimating me. Because how strong was strong? Strong enough to defeat Coby – which wasn't much of a feat at the time? Or Al Capone level strong? And what measured their strength if they were only going to be their firearms anyways?

I frowned because I couldn't filter out any of the shit he called when he didn't give me any useful information at all. "not what I asked candyass."

Coby explained and I got somewhat more knowledgeable about the situation. At that moment he told me what his name was: Coby. He told me Alvida's preferred weapon of choice. (a bludgeon, very old fashioned and also pretty admirable when everybody else relied on their firearms and luck.) Her mob was made out of ten capo's and ten regular members. Coby believed that none on then had sworn on the omerta yet. They weren't very loyal to their boss. Coby was tricked into joining the mob when he witnessed two of Alvida's men put a contract out on a rat.

There was no need for a plan in this situation, I knew it would work out just fine.

* * *

Regarding the fight with Alvida: maybe she was worth telling about in another story. Just not this one. The fight didn't really make much of an impact, I really can't remember much about it as well. Coby was scared out of his mind but in the end knew how to take care of the rest of the situation on his own. I wrecked the base he did the rest. In the end, what does it matter? I've met hundreds of people in the span of my adventure and I just don't feel like Alvida deserves to be talked about. She was just mean and unsympathetic. She had no reason for being an asshole, she just was one. See you soon.

* * *

How many times have I rewritten this story now? 5 times? I really don't know. I think I left this story around last year after deleting the remaining chapters and rewriting only chapter 1. I never continued. Reading the older version almost made me cry. I have never read something this grammatically broken and badly written. (this is still far from imperfect but skill comes with practice.) The story was full of plot holes and unrealistic characters who just felt empty. But even after reading that disaster I still didn't want to drop the story. I liked the concept I had created for myself and remembered the plot I had written out until the end. So I decided to pick the story up again. Renewed, a little bit different and way less grammatically incorrect. I hope you enjoy and just wish to apologize to the readers who have followed this since the beginning and just were left hanging without warning. Sorry!

(I'm also picking up on my other story brainsick vixen!)


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